


Breathing

by Luxie



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Captain Derek, M/M, MERMAID STILES, Mermaids, Pirates, mermaid au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 02:50:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3593586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luxie/pseuds/Luxie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You should have hidden below deck with the crew.” Derek says, taking a step closer as a silent threat.<br/>“Nah,” The stowaway says, looking completely unimpressed with Derek. “All the interesting things are up here. Besides, downstairs it smells like shit and dead stuff.”<br/>“There's probably a lot of both down there.” Derek counters. “Why are you here?”<br/>“Curiosity.” The young man answers and starts moving around the cabin.</p><p>AU Where Derek is a Pirate Captain and Stiles is a Curious Mermaid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kasienka_nikki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kasienka_nikki/gifts).



> This work is a gift to kasienkanikki over on Tumblr for her 29th birthday, which is today.  
> Happy birthday, Kate. I really owe you a lot.

They set sails before noon and reaches open water just as the sun hits zenit.

Derek checks in with Boyd to make sure orders are assigned, before he slips into the cool darkness of the captain's cabin.

Charts and notes fill the table in the middle of the room and someone – Isaac probably – has planted a knife through one map, into the wooden surface of the table. It marks their destination, a small reef just off the coast of Zanzibar, and all though it's well aimed, considering the drawback it must have taken to force the blade so far into the table, Derek thinks it's just a bit too dramatic.

They're not pirates, after all. Not in the truest sense of the word, at least. They scavenge what they can, but most times his crew can set foot on land feeling like honest men.

Derek takes off his jacket and unbuttons the top of his shirt with one hand, the other taking out his gun from the holster on his hips. He's been carrying it for ten years and he's only had to use it four times. That doesn't mean he's not willing to.

“Are you going to come out on your own?” He asks quietly. “I'll consider letting you live if you do.”

There's a stretch of silence before a figure slides out from a crouched position behind the storage chest. It's a young man, definitely not one of the crew. Derek knows this, even if Erica had brought on a few new people this time. He knows, because the young man standing awkwardly in Derek's cabin isn't human.

“Was it the breathing? Was I breathing too loudly?” The young man asks, looking Derek over. Maybe he's wondering if Derek is really the kind of man who's willing to shoot a stowaway. Derek hopes he won't have to give him an answer.

“You should have hidden below deck with the crew.” Derek says, taking a step closer as a silent threat.

“Nah,” The stowaway says, looking completely unimpressed with Derek. “All the interesting things are up here. Besides, downstairs it smells like shit and dead stuff.”

“There's probably a lot of both down there.” Derek counters. “Why are you here?”

“Curiosity.” The young man answers and starts moving around the cabin. Derek lifts the gun higher, letting it follow the young man with a finger on the trigger. “I've never been on a ship before.”

“I bet you haven't.”

“I mean, if I had wanted to get on a ship before, I totally could have gone.” He moves closer while circling the room, it's slow and seems completely unintentional, but Derek doesn't miss it.

“Then why did you pick my ship?”

“Curiosity.” The young man repeats, now just a few steps from Derek.“Duh!”

“I'm a bit curious myself.” Derek admits, tightening his grip on the wooden handle.

“Yeah?” Barely more than a breath of air.

“If I was to shoot you now, would it even hurt you?”

“If you shot me? With that thing?” He nods towards Derek's gun. “Probably not. I'm pretty unkillable.”

“I thought as much.” Derek says, pulling the trigger anyway. The bullet hits the opposite wall and the young man smiles widely and closes the distance, pressing his mouth to Derek's. It's unlike anything Derek has ever felt before. The lips against his are cold but alive at the same time, moving greedily.

Derek's brain shuts down and his senses takes over. The young man wraps his fingers into Derek's hair to hold him in place, but Derek's doesn't think he could find the strength to pull away even if he wanted to.

Cold fingers run down Derek's back, over the thin fabric of his dress shirt and leave a trail of wetness in their path. Derek welcomes the touch, the coldness of it, because his entire body seems to be on fire.

The gunshot is what breaks the spell, but by the time Derek is fully able to clear his mind and catch his breath the young man is gone. The window is open and a light breeze blows the curtains, but apart from that, there is no trace that anyone was ever here.

Except maybe Boyd, who's standing in the door to the cabin, gun still raised and eyes wide.

“You okay, Capt'n?” He asks, but Derek can't give him an answer.

“Was that a Sea Spirit?” Erica demands and Derek notice that she's peeking out from behind Boyd's broad shoulders. Next to her Isaac pops up his head.

“Don't be silly, there's no such thing.” Issac says. “Was probably a Mermaid.”

“So Mermaids are real, but Sea Spirits ain't, is what you're saying?” Erica throws back and Derek has already heard this argument. He doesn't need to hear it again, especially not now.

“Shut up!” He yells and they all fall quiet. “Boyd I'm glad you showed up, but please take those two and put them to use on Deck.”

“You sure you should be alone, Capt'n?” Boyd asks.

“Probably not, but I think enough guns have been fired today. “ Derek answers and pinches the bridge of his nose. “And I'd hate to have to shoot someone on the first day.”

The three of them leave him alone in the cabin and Derek closes the window, makes sure the hasp is secured before he pulls the curtains closed.

 

 

Derek wakes up to the ship rolling dangerously, men shouting on deck. Isaac and Erica are already climbing the robes, while Boyd is issuing orders on the bridge.

“It's just a breeze, men!” Boyd calls over the roar of the storm.

“Boyd!” Derek calls, taking the stairs up to the ship's wheel in three long steps. “Why the hell didn't you wake me up?”

“We did, sir. Isaac knocked for five minutes and we figured, if you could sleep through that _and_ the storm, then you must have needed it.”

“That's the dumbest goddamn thing I've ever heard.” Derek shouts, taking the other side of the wheel. Even with the two of them it's almost impossible to hold still. “I would have kicked you awake if I had to!”

“Pardon me, sir, but that's all well and fine. I ain't Captain. And I'd like to keep the foot that kicked you awake.”

“Boyd you've been my second in command for eight years. I appreciate your feet as much as you do.”

“Sir, I highly doubt that.” Boyd says. He opens his mouth to say something else, but the words never leave his mouth. Instead his eyes widen and Derek turns his head just in time to see the wave wash in over the ship.

 

 

Derek is pretty sure he drowns. He feels the gulp of water go down the wrong pipe and the pain is excruciating. He wants to scream, but all he gets for his troubles is more water down his lungs. When he blacks out it's almost a comfort. Almost.

Derek wakes up to find himself pulled up on a sandy beach, wind quiet and sun blaring down on him.

“You're a really bad swimmer.” A voice says and Derek turns his head to find the young man staring at him, legs crossed and hands playing with the dry sand, lifting up a handful and letting it drizzle back down. Derek automatically reaches for his hip, for the gun that's not there.

“Yeah, that.” The young man says. “I left that in the water. Turns out I don't like guns that much.”

“I drowned.” Derek says, the words feeling like daggers through his throat. He realizes he's parched.

“Clearly you didn't.”

“You saved my life?” Derek guesses, and from the smile that spreads across the young man's face Derek is sure he's right, even if he doesn't get a reply. “Why?”

The young man looks intently at Derek, seems to study every detail about Derek's face, from the gray eyes to the stubble.

“I already told you.” He says then and starts to close the few feet of space between them. “I was curious.”

And this time, when he presses his lips to Derek's, it feels like being alive.

 


End file.
